


Men Without Honour

by manic_intent



Series: Akai Ito [3]
Category: Ghost of Tsushima (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fix-It, Full spoilers, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, That soulmate AU that runs more like Total War than a stealth game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: “I might be away for a while,” Jin said as he lay with Ryuzo on the roof of a supply shed, hidden from the main Watanabe clan housing. “My uncle wants me to represent him in mediating a trade dispute in Port Izumi, and the last time those clans involved argued—”“It lasted two generations, and was only resolved when Lady Sanada Ikue consented to marry Lord Izumi Hiyama,” Ryuzo said without opening his eyes, his face shaded by an old straw hat.“How did you know it was them?”“Who else? They’ve been squabbling for a century, with only a brief break in between. Until Lady Ikue died in childbirth and Lord Hiyama fell off his horse and then a cliff.” Ryuzo affected a yawn. “Some days, when that old fox is grilling me on some years-old dispute over something incredibly petty, I think about running away in the night. It keeps me sane.”
Relationships: Ryuzo/Sakai Jin, Sakai Jin/Ryuzo
Series: Akai Ito [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867426
Comments: 13
Kudos: 162





	Men Without Honour

**Author's Note:**

> It occurred to me that my continuous feels about Ghost of Tsushima is because I’m not even addressing the part of the game that gave me the feels haha (namely, Jin and Lord Shimura), so, here it is. Spoilers for the whole game.
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“I might be away for a while,” Jin said as he lay with Ryuzo on the roof of a supply shed, hidden from the main Watanabe clan housing. “My uncle wants me to represent him in mediating a trade dispute in Port Izumi, and the last time those clans involved argued—”

“It lasted two generations, and was only resolved when Lady Sanada Ikue consented to marry Lord Izumi Hiyama,” Ryuzo said without opening his eyes, his face shaded by an old straw hat.

“How did you know it was them?” 

“Who else? They’ve been squabbling for a century, with only a brief break in between. Until Lady Ikue died in childbirth and Lord Hiyama fell off his horse and then a cliff.” Ryuzo affected a yawn. “Some days, when that old fox is grilling me on some years-old dispute over something incredibly petty, I think about running away in the night. It keeps me sane.” 

Jin folded his hands over his chest as he looked up at the clouds. “Lord Watanabe means well,” Jin said. 

“Does your uncle think so?” 

“Well,” Jin said, unwilling to lie but equally unwilling to betray things told in confidence. 

“Called Lord Watanabe a nosy old fox, did he? Maybe wished that he would stick to governing his bit of Tsushima?” 

Ryuzo had always been perceptive, and life in Azamo Bay had only honed his instincts. “Lord Watanabe’s missives are always seriously regarded,” Jin said, “and I have only ever heard my uncle refer to Lord Watanabe in respectful terms.”

“Regarded, then disregarded,” Ryuzo said, chuckling. “I tell him, why bother? He’s getting old. He could spend his time drinking sake and composing haiku, rather than obsessing over things that are turning him bald from the stress.”

“Ryuzo!” 

“Lord Watanabe isn’t here; there’s no need to act all shocked.” 

“I’m surprised that he tolerates your attitude,” Jin said. Even Jin sometimes found Ryuzo’s bluntness upsetting, and he’d grown up listening to it. 

“As long as _you_ ‘tolerate’ it, hm? Lord Watanabe said that I might have better luck bringing up such concerns with you in his place. When you become the Jitō,” Ryuzo said, eyeing Jin from under the brim of his hat.

“That isn’t set in stone. Though I’m glad to hear that he might be serious about adopting you.” 

“I don’t care about that,” Ryuzo said with a snort, “and I wish you didn’t. We’re grown men now, Jin. Frankly, I feel sorry for you sometimes.”

“How so?” Jin said, surprised. That was new.

“For most of my life, I’ve been unburdened by parental expectations. As to that old fox, we came into whatever this is as adults,” Ryuzo said, gesturing vaguely between himself and the clan house. “With an understanding of who we both are, as fully formed people. Children and their parents—especially with parents like yours, and your uncle—don’t get that choice.” 

“I count myself fortunate to have the family I have,” Jin said, puzzled by Ryuzo’s words. The Sakai family was a wealthy if minor daimyo clan, and his uncle, as Jitō, effectively ruled Tsushima. 

“I didn’t mean it that way. Jin, do you sometimes wonder if the rest of the world has families the way we do?” 

“Why not? I don’t think people are as different as all that,” Jin said. He’d read Chinese texts and some of the old literary books that Lord Shimura had in the clan library, and hadn’t thought them all that alien. Surely the rest of the world wouldn’t be wildly different. 

“Maybe it’s because I didn’t have parents from a young age, but sometimes it feels strange to me, looking in from the outside. How odd it is that parents have such an unfettered hand in shaping what their children become, that they have a proprietary interest in their future. That even as people like you grow into capable, fully-formed adults, family is still everything. It colours the way you think, the way you act. Your sense of honour gets tied up not just in how you interact with your parents but in the ancestors before them. Even those long-dead.” 

“…You’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Jin had never heard Ryuzo in such an expansive mood. “Is it truly that strange?”

Ryuzo huffed. “Do you care what your uncle thinks of you?”

“Of course. He is a wise and honourable—”

“How much do you care?” 

“I’ve never thought about it,” Jin said, frowning at Ryuzo. “Why do you ask?” 

“You want to make him proud.” 

“I strive to be worthy of his trust.” Ryuzo and Lord Shimura had an uneasy relationship at best: they preferred to ignore each other’s existence where possible. Was that what was worrying Ryuzo? “Ryuzo, someday, my uncle will see you for what you are.”

Ryuzo laughed. “He isn’t _my_ uncle, thank the Gods. No. What I mean is, don’t you find it odd? That you, a grown man, still hope to make your uncle proud of you.” 

“I don’t see why that should be odd,” Jin said, bewildered. “As I said, he’s an honourable man, one not easily given to pride. In order to—”

Ryuzo waved a hand in irritation, cutting Jin off. “Maybe I’m not being clear,” he said reflectively. “Never mind.” 

“No, tell me.” Jin shifted closer and onto his elbows, lifting Ryuzo's hat and peering into his face. “Are you trying to tell me something about my uncle?” 

“Have your parents or your uncle ever told you they love you?” 

“Well no,” Jin said, blinking. “They wouldn’t. Love is something you’d show, not. You know what I mean.” 

“Why would I?” 

Jin gripped Ryuzo’s shoulder anxiously. “You think I don’t love you?” 

“What? I didn’t say that.” Ryuzo pinched the bridge of his nose. “How is it possible for us to have known each other all our lives and yet…” He exhaled in frustration. “Look. All I’m saying is. Sometimes, I think people take families too seriously.” 

“That is how we are,” Jin said, trying to read Ryuzo’s rueful expression. “Family stays part of us, no matter what, and I’ve always considered you part of mine. What can be more important to us than family?”

Ryuzo shot him an unreadable look, then he huffed and muttered something under his breath, tipping down his hat to shade his eyes. He pulled Jin down beside him, tickling his fingertips along the nape of Jin’s neck.

#

Ryuzo’s words weighed on Jin’s mind as he returned to Castle Shimura. He thought that he acquitted himself well when Lord Shimura asked Jin for an update on the Azamo region, as well as a summary of Lord Watanabe’s new dispatches, but at the end of it, Lord Shimura gave Jin a long, thoughtful stare.

“You’ll leave for Port Izumi tomorrow?” Lord Shimura asked. 

“Yes, uncle,” Jin said. 

Lord Shimura nodded as he slowly wound up the dispatch in his hand. Jin waited patiently for a dismissal, accustomed to the long stretches of quiet. It’d unsettled him as a boy, used as he was to Ryuzo’s brashness or his father’s unsmiling, brusque commands. “Riding down to Azamo Bay once a month is excessive,” Lord Shimura said once he was done.

Jin dropped his gaze respectfully. He’d been prepared for this topic ever since he’d begun habitually riding out to visit Ryuzo. “Lord Watanabe has an intricate understanding of Tsushima’s affairs, one that I someday hope to match.” 

“He enjoys meddling in matters that aren’t in his ambit of concern,” Lord Shimura said, setting down the dispatch, “and he is as cunning as the emblem of his clan. Were he not also one of the most honourable and compassionate men I have ever met, I would’ve censured him a long time ago.”

“Compassion is a virtue,” Jin said, “particularly in people who have the power to exercise it for the greater good.” 

“You sound just like your mother.” A brief, wistful look crossed Lord Shimura’s face. “The two of us used to argue so bitterly as children. Each time, she would be the one scolded by our parents.” 

“My mother?” Jin said, surprised. He didn’t remember much about his mother, who had passed away when he had been very young, but Yuriko and the other kashindan remembered her as a kind and gentle woman. 

“According to her, it’s because families would much rather blame the sister for everything rather than the only son,” Lord Shimura said, chuckling. 

“She might have had a point.” It was no secret that families tended to treasure their sons—especially an only son—more than their daughters. 

“Now you sound like your father.” Lord Shimura looked out at the window, over at the sky. “They were never meant to be married. There was no political advantage in marrying the only Shimura daughter to a minor daimyo lord who was already my close friend and clan vassal. Our parents wanted her to marry into a clan on the mainland, one with influence in the shōgunate court. She refused, saying that she didn’t want to marry a stranger twice her age and be sent far away from everything she knew. Our father reminded her that it was her duty to marry well on behalf of the clan, to whoever the clan felt was appropriate.” 

“What happened?” Jin had never heard about this from either of his parents. 

Lord Shimura pursed his lips. “Nahoko resorted to underhanded tactics. First, she said she would rather die than leave Tsushima. When that also failed to sway our parents, she secretly approached Kazumasa—a man who’d worshipped her since we were children—and told him that Clan Shimura was seriously considering him for her husband. She encouraged him to push things along by sending our father a formal offer for her hand. Kazumasa was, understandably, too overjoyed to think this through, and sent in an offer immediately.”

“My mother?” Jin said, astonished. 

“Which Nahoko then intercepted and accepted on behalf of Clan Shimura, without any of us knowing about it. Having long bent the attendants of the clan to her will. At that point, what could the clan do without embarrassing both ourselves and Clan Sakai? The wedding went through, and our parents stopped talking to her. It hurt her deeply, though Nahoko claimed she didn’t care.”

Jin’s grandparents had all passed before he was born, and he hadn’t heard his parents mention them save in passing. “You forgave her.” 

“Forgave her? No.” At Jin’s blink, Lord Shimura said, “Understandable as her reservations were, her methods were dishonourable. Had your father not loved her enough to overlook them… had he decided to cancel the match, we would’ve had to make reparations to Clan Sakai. The scandal would’ve damaged the Shimura name and our reputation. She put herself above her family, and that is unforgivable.”

“Even now?” Jin said, disconcerted. “I would’ve never have been born. Growing up, you visited us all the time.” 

“Disappointed as I was in Nahoko’s actions, what purpose would it have served to cut her out from the family? She was still my sister. Besides, despite the choices she made to get to where she was, your birth remains one of the great joys of my life. My parents longed for grandchildren. Had they survived to see you, they would’ve considered their lives complete. Though,” Lord Shimura said with a gesture at Jin’s marked finger, “they too would not have been pleased by the akai ito.” 

“Ryuzo has been improving under Lord Watanabe’s tutelage,” Jin said, trying not to sound defensive. “Just because of the akai ito—” 

“It is only because of the akai ito that I’ve been willing to tolerate your friendship with him,” Lord Shimura said wearily. “Jin, I know you don’t want to see it, but I’m familiar with people like Ryuzo. They’re petty and quick to remember grudges, often resenting people more fortunate than they are. This resentment usually turns into bitterness, even against their friends or family. They are fair-weather friends at best, dangerous at worst. They have no loyalty, no honour.” 

“He isn’t like that at all,” Jin said, startled by Lord Shimura’s vehemence.

Lord Shimura ignored Jin. “Yet because of the akai ito, it’s possible that he will stay loyal to you, because the Gods may give him no choice. Lord Watanabe has expressed a willingness to adopt Ryuzo as his successor, but I’m not certain that I want him to do that for my sake. I can trust Lord Watanabe not to abuse the influence he wields on Tsushima’s behalf. I’m not so certain about Ryuzo.”

“Ryuzo has no interest in power or influence,” Jin said, uncertain of what to say that could fix Lord Shimura’s opinion of Ryuzo. “He told me himself that he doesn’t care whether Lord Watanabe adopts him or not.” 

“He doesn’t?” Lord Shimura frowned. “Why would he not care about such an honour?” 

Jin didn’t quite understand that himself. Despite Ryuzo’s tendency to insult Lord Watanabe, sometimes to his face, Ryuzo was fond of his new mentor. “Perhaps he doesn’t believe that it might be true, and doesn’t want to face the disappointment.”

“Lord Watanabe wouldn’t make false promises. Not for something like this.” Lord Shimura’s frown deepened. “It’s good that you’ve said this to me. He sent me a letter last month that’s been troubling me, but now I finally know how to respond. Either way, you may be going north for a while. During your absence, reflect on my words.” 

“I will,” Jin said, his heart heavy within him. He wanted to say that Ryuzo would prove Lord Shimura wrong, but Jin knew his uncle’s temper. It was better to wait.

#

Lord Shimura tensed as he emerged from the Castle Kaneda's keep with Jin to face a rank of archers and armoured swordsmen. He blinked as he noticed Ryuzo in the Watanabe armour and mask, sitting on a decorative rock. “Hajime?” Lord Shimura said, incredulous, then he frowned as Ryuzo got to his feet and removed the fox mask. “Ryuzo.” He looked Ryuzo up and down. “Clan armour? That’s presumptuous of you.”

An angry murmur echoed behind Ryuzo from the Straw Hats, quieting down as Ryuzo raised a palm. He inclined his head with a respectful gesture that didn’t touch his hard eyes. “Lord Shimura. I’m pleased to see you so unaffected by your long captivity.” 

“I asked him to wear it,” Jin said hastily. “There was no time to retrieve the Sakai kashindan armour from the clan estates. I myself had to wear Clan Adachi’s armour.” 

“With Lady Masako’s blessing, I should think?” Lord Shimura looked over at where Masako stood with the other swordsmen. 

Masako walked forward, her lined face haggard with exhaustion. “Your nephew and his friend did surprisingly well, given the odds,” she said. “Lord Watanabe and Kosei couldn’t have done any better in their place.” 

“So I have heard,” Lord Shimura said, though he sounded stiff. “Clear out the bodies and search Castle Kaneda for survivors. The Khan rode north to take Castle Shimura. We’ll have to prepare to pursue him—and to find a way to contact the shōgunate.” 

Beside Ryuzo, Yuna made a show of looking to him for instructions. Ryuzo made a dismissive, shooing gesture. “You all heard the Jitō. We can’t start drinking yet. Move, move.” 

He started to leave with them and paused as Lord Shimura said, “Ryuzo, stay. Lady Masako, Ishikawa-sensei, I’ll value your counsel as well.” 

“I don’t have any counsel to give,” Ishikawa said, though he folded his arms before him and stayed where he was. Lady Masako shot Jin a veiled look that he couldn’t read but wiped her blade and sheathed it. 

Once the courtyard was emptied, Lord Shimura said, “I heard about the siege of Azamo Bay.” 

Ryuzo looked to Jin with a hard curl to his mouth. “We routed the Mongols with only four casualties,” Jin said, wishing he could stand next to Ryuzo. Or in front of him. “The plan was unorthodox, but given what we had to work with—”

“Was it your plan, or Ryuzo’s?” Lord Shimura asked. 

“Does it matter?” Ryuzo asked, his tone flat. “It worked.” 

“Izuhara is now free because of both of us,” Jin said earnestly. “We hold every region in this part of Tsushima and have fortified the villages in our care. We’re poised for a push toward Yarikawa.” 

Lord Shimura glanced at Lady Masako, who said, “I’ve lost my entire clan. I’m tired of others having to lose just as much. Unorthodox as their tactics might be, they made the best of what they had.” 

“Your entire clan?” Lord Shimura repeated, horrified. “Even your grandchildren? How?”

“Mercenaries attacked Clan Adachi’s holdings while the rest of us were at Komoda Beach. Lady Masako is the only survivor,” Jin said. 

“Despicable,” Lord Shimura said, furious. “To murder even children…! Were the culprits caught and dealt with?” 

“Not yet. I’m still searching for who they might be,” Lady Masako said, her mouth pressing into a grim line. “Jin and Ryuzo have been invaluable so far in my quest, and the Straw Hats are investigating on my behalf.” 

“Lord Adachi was a great man and a great friend,” Lord Shimura said, sobering. “I will honour his sacrifices and help you bring these villains to justice.” He looked each of them in the eye, even Ryuzo. “Thank you for all that you have done. However, the way forward cannot be more of the same.”

“Tell that to the Mongols,” Ryuzo said with an ugly laugh. “Jin, I’ll talk to you later after all you lordships are done discussing our fates.” He bowed and turned on his heel, stalking off over the courtyard. 

Lord Shimura scowled. “Still as unmanageable as ever,” he said. 

“Uncle—” Jin began, only for Masako to let out a wry chuckle. 

“Reminds me of Harunobu when he was younger,” Masako said. “Would rather storm off when frustrated rather than try and defend his point of view. Or start shouting.” 

Lord Shimura stared at her, his anger shocked into dissipating. “Lord Adachi? Surely not.” 

“Not in front of you, maybe.” Masako glanced at Ishikawa, who sniffed and looked pointedly away. “Didn’t you hear of the time he approached Ishikawa-sensei for archery lessons and was turned away?” 

“They probably heard his displeasure down in Hiyoshi village,” Ishikawa said with a sour look. 

“Lord Adachi?” Jin said, amazed. He’d met Lord Adachi several times—even visited the Adachi estates when he had been younger—and had always thought of him as a solemn and quiet man. 

“He did have a bit of a temper,” Lord Shimura said, clearly unwilling to speak ill of the dead, “but he was a consummate master of the blade, and an honourable man.” 

“So he was. Yet he also insisted on marrying the younger daughter of a farmer,” Masako said with a wan smile. “Against his own clan’s objections. Some would not have thought that honourable.” 

“Your single-handed defence of your family home as a young woman untrained in the way of the sword is the stuff of local legend,” Lord Shimura pointed out. “Even the shōgun was impressed. He offered his personal congratulations when Lord Adachi petitioned him for the right to marry you.”

“That didn’t matter to his parents. They would’ve rather he married a daughter of any samurai family on Tsushima than a peasant woman. He refused, and here we are.” Masako stared steadily at Lord Shimura. “I would not be so quick to dismiss someone purely due to the class that they were born into. That is my counsel, if you would have it. Lord Shimura.”

“Class is not the issue,” Lord Shimura said, with a significant glance at Jin. “We’ll speak on this later, Jin.”

#

Ryuzo winced at the sound of Yuriko scolding someone near the stables for unloading supplies in the wrong spot. “Maa, every time I hear her take on that tone, a part of me instinctively wants to run away and hide in the forest,” he said.

“You did make a lot of trouble for her growing up,” Jin said. They sat together in the main room of the Sakai clan house, looking at the racked armour. 

“She probably thought we were bandits when we rode into Omi Village with our attachment. I saw her hiding kunai up her sleeve when she recognised you. Did Yuriko keep Omi Village free of Mongol and bandit occupation all by herself? I never knew that old woman was so scary, or I would’ve listened to her more as a boy.” 

“Would you?” Jin said, chuckling. 

“I’d have tried slightly harder, at least.” Ryuzo nodded at the armour. “Aren’t you going to put it on? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” 

“In time,” Jin said, reaching over and grasping Ryuzo’s palm. “This room is where we first met, according to my mother. Even then, I didn’t want to let you go.” 

“Your parents would’ve liked that.” 

“Your mother was terrified.”

“I don’t blame her.” Ryuzo looked over at the armour. “I don’t even blame your parents for the things they’ve done. Or your uncle. Maybe I did when I was a boy, but now—” he squeezed Jin’s hand, “—it isn’t as though they can change anything about us.”

“I talked to my uncle about the scroll,” Jin confessed. 

Ryuzo chuckled. “How did that go?” 

“Not well. He said he’d seen a copy of it before. Lord Watanabe petitioned him a while ago for permission. He said he sees no reason to change his mind from before.”

“I could’ve told you that.” 

“He’s wrong. I’m going to ask him again once we kill the Khan and rout the invaders from our shores. This isn’t fair. I would be dead without you. So would he.” 

“Jin.” Ryuzo patted Jin’s hand. “It doesn’t matter. You’re all the family I’ve ever needed.” 

“Ryuzo,” Jin breathed. He leaned over to kiss Ryuzo, licking eagerly into his mouth as Ryuzo made a soft noise and parted his lips.

Yuriko cleared her throat behind them, and they startled apart. Jin nearly didn’t dare look up at her. As he did, an unreadable expression crossed her features, settling into resigned amusement. “In public? Really?” 

“I didn’t start it,” Ryuzo said, his tone casual but his shoulders drawn and tense. 

Yuriko glanced at their linked hands. “I always knew it’d be a matter of time. No matter what your parents or your uncle tried. Fate is fate.” 

“Yuriko,” Jin began, wary. 

“You’re lucky to have each other,” Yuriko said, looking at Ryuzo, then at Jin. “But please. Be more careful. How long will you both be staying in Omi Village?” 

“Just for a day,” Jin said, reluctantly pulling his hand away. “Yuriko, I’d like you to be in charge of the detachment here. Daiki and the others will use it as a staging point to clear out the bandits and Mongols in the area, but in matters regarding village upkeep and maintenance, we’ve advised him to defer to you.”

“Daiki? That too-tall ronin with the big ears? Fine, if he’s willing to listen to an old woman,” Yuriko said. She looked soberly at them. “It’s good to see you both. I feared the worst when I heard about Komoda Beach.”

“Don’t you mean it’s good to see Jin?” Ryuzo said. 

“What state would the young master be in without you?” Yuriko asked with a wry smile. “We don’t have many supplies, but I’ll try to make something nice for dinner.” 

“There’s no need to go to such trouble,” Jin said, but Yuriko already shuffled off. He blushed as Ryuzo kissed him on the cheek. “Yuriko just told us to be careful.”

“So let’s go somewhere quieter,” Ryuzo whispered, a familiar gleam in his eyes. “Though, it’s a pity.”

“What is?” 

Ryuzo leaned in, his lips hot against Jin’s ear. “I’ve thought about having you right here. In this room, before your father’s armour. His son’s thighs wrapped around me as I—”

“Ryuzo!” Jin hissed, scandalised. 

“I know. The room’s too open, and we’d probably get caught. Like I said, a pity.” 

“We should move,” Jin said, hauling Ryuzo to his feet, cheeks hot. They somehow made it to the main bedroom without being seen. Yuriko had kept it preserved exactly as Jin had left it, with its shelves of personal effects left untouched. Ryuzo slowed as Jin pulled him into the room, looking around. 

“Never been in here before,” Ryuzo said, looking at some of the scrolls on the shelves and the gifts that Nahoko had received from the other clans’ women.

“It felt strange packing it all away,” Jin confessed. “Especially since I never visited Omi Village for long. I’d usually stay a few days before going back to Castle Shimura.” 

“This is going to feel so much odder than having you in front of the clan armour,” Ryuzo mused. He pretended to wince as Jin smacked him on the arm. “Ow, ow.”

“We should be quick,” Jin said, drawing Ryuzo down to the futon, glad that they’d both chosen to wear more understated clothes for travelling, their armour packed away in their saddlebags. 

Hats got tossed to the side as Ryuzo pinned Jin down to kiss him, tangling on top. “Quick?” Ryuzo murmured with his wolfish smile. “No. I’ve wanted to have you in this house for far too long to be quick about it.” 

Jin squirmed. “The others will come to look for us, and we should be overseeing the fortification efforts and—” he moaned as Ryuzo squeezed him through his clothes, jerking into his grip. “Why this house?” he asked as Ryuzo began working off their clothes.

“Just a thought,” Ryuzo said, nuzzling Jin’s throat with a dry laugh. “You, in a house full of your family’s ghosts. What is it that your uncle likes to say? Your father is the wind at your back? If you ask me—” Ryuzo unwrapped Jin’s obi and kimono, “—it’s more likely your mother. She’s the one who used to coddle you all the time.” 

“I was a child,” Jin said, distracted as Ryuzo kissed a ticklish path down to his belly. “Can we not talk about my parents while we’re doing this?” 

“As you wish, Lord Sakai,” Ryuzo said, affecting a formal tone that had Jin fall back against the futon with a helpless laugh. 

“Please don’t call me that. Do you have the, ah. Supplies?” 

Ryuzo set a familiar jar on the ground next to the futon without looking up from pulling Jin’s fundoshi free. “Thank you for the feast,” he said, grinning mischievously. 

“Ryuzo!” Laughter heaved out of Jin, stuttering into a loud moan as Ryuzo licked him slowly from root to tip. Flushing, Jin clapped his hand over his mouth. Ryuzo chuckled, his breath hot against the tip of Jin’s thickening cock and his belly. 

As Ryuzo sucked Jin slowly into his mouth, he pinned Jin down with one arm while swiping the jar over with the other. Jin’s heels dug into the tatami beside Ryuzo as he fought to stay quiet, stifling his whimpers as the tight, wet heat of Ryuzo’s mouth fed up and down his flesh. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. 

Experience taught Jin that trying to watch Ryuzo doing this to him would undo him far too quickly, even with the now-familiar initial discomfort of slicked fingers pressing within him and stretching him open. Ryuzo hummed teasingly as he worked, drinking Jin in deeper than Jin could take him without gagging. Jin choked off strangled groans and whines, his hips jerking against Ryuzo’s grip despite his efforts. As Ryuzo finally nudged against the right spot inside Jin, he bucked, badly stifling a cry. 

“Shh, shh,” Ryuzo said as he pulled off with a smirk. “Do you want people to find us like this, Lord Sakai?”

“They’ve probably guessed,” Jin growled, scratching at Ryuzo’s shoulders. “Again.” 

“Hmm. Maybe we should have done this in front of the armour after all,” Ryuzo said, running his tongue over Jin’s tightening balls as Jin opened his mouth to admonish him. Jin let out a shout that had them both freeze, jerking to look at the door.

No footsteps. Jin dropped his head back against the futon with a groan. “You’re trying to kill me,” he accused Ryuzo.

“You seem to be enjoying it,” Ryuzo shot back, kissing the wet tip of Jin’s cock as he drew out his fingers with a wet sound. “Hands and knees.” 

Jin obliged. “I thought you’d want me on my back after… after what you said in the hall,” Jin said, growing breathless as Ryuzo shed the rest of his clothes and rubbed more of the extract over his cock.

“Next time,” Ryuzo promised. Jin arched with a hiss as Ryuzo began to press within him, careful and slow, pressing kisses over Jin’s back as he eased in inch by inch. It hurt, a hurt that Jin welcomed, his teeth sunk into his wrist and his other hand groping back over the futon until Ryuzo twisted his fingers with Jin’s. The akai ito stretched and eased between them as Ryuzo sheathed himself as far as he could go, as he whispered, “Jin, _Jin_ ,” into Jin’s ear in breathless awe. 

Moans clawed their way down Jin’s throat as his eyes stung, threatening to turn into sobs. Whether he was being taken or doing the taking, their union like this never failed to burn the air from Jin’s lungs, to make his blood pound in his veins. Ryuzo murmured nonsense words against his cheek once the stretch eased enough for them to move together, slow and steady until Ryuzo found what he was looking for. As Jin bucked with a muffled cry, Ryuzo chuckled huskily and kissed the back of his neck. 

Jin knew what was coming. He braced himself as well as he could as Ryuzo grasped his hips. Jin bit down hard on his wrist at the first rough thrust, arching in ecstasy. Ryuzo hissed something, setting a brutal pace that had Jin scratching at the futon, his moans tearing into sobs of pleasure. A hand groped under Jin, pulling at him, but Jin grabbed Ryuzo’s wrist to still him, wanting this to last. Not that it worked for long. 

As Jin keened and shook into his release, Ryuzo didn’t even slow down. With a few more deep, driving thrusts, he buried his mouth against Jin’s throat, his hips twitching forward in tiny jerks. Jin slumped against the futon, trying to catch his breath. He made an inquiring noise as Ryuzo gathered him into his arms and eased them both onto their flank without pulling out, nuzzling Jin’s jaw.

Jin swatted Ryuzo on the hip as their breathing eased. “We have work to do.” 

“No, we don’t,” Ryuzo said, refusing to move. “We deserve a break after all that we’ve done.” 

Jin squirmed. “We should at least get cleaned up.” 

“What for?” Ryuzo said, pressing his wolfish grin to Jin’s shoulder. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to get excited again.” 

“Ryuzo! You can’t be serious… aah…”

#

Jin found Ryuzo, Kojiro, and a handful of the other Straw Hats speaking quietly in a corner of the barracks that they’d occupied for themselves. As Jin approached, Kojiro glanced up sharply, then made a comment that had Ryuzo roll his eyes and mock-threaten a punch. He turned to Jin with a curl to his mouth and frowned. “Jin. Your.” Ryuzo's hand rose to his cheek, to the spot that mirrored the new mark on Jin's. Before Jin could make an excuse, Ryuzo stalked over, grabbing Jin by the wrist and hauling him out of the building through the side door. They walked behind a set of water barrels as Ryuzo looked around to check that they were alone.

“It’s nothing,” Jin said. Compared to all the injuries Jin had suffered since Komoda Beach, a slap was nothing. Yet unlike the others, it’d knocked his world itself off-kilter. Trying to hide his disorientation and the ache in his chest, Jin looked away. “He didn’t take the suggestion well. As you predicted.” 

“Jin.” Ryuzo pulled Jin close. He kissed the reddened mark on Jin’s cheek with a gentle brush of his lips. “That infuriating old—”

“Don’t. I can’t…” Jin exhaled. “It doesn’t matter. We should still think through our options. What were the others talking to you about?” 

“Daiki objected to the use of poison. Said he’d seen it get out of control before in the village he grew up in. When the villagers set out to poison the pests in the fields and ended up poisoning themselves. His mother died.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that, but this wouldn’t be the same.”

“It is, and it isn’t. The Mongols learn from us, and return what they learn a hundredfold. We’ve seen that here in Toyotama so far,” Ryuzo said with a wry curl to his mouth. “How they’ve started mixing up their armour, so we now can’t tell from reconnaissance exactly how many elite warriors we’d be facing in a camp.”

“What then? If not poison. That charge across the bridge… they’d have something else up their sleeves.” It had been, Jin had to admit, a cunning trap. The Mongols loosed a horse-drawn wagonload of explosive barrels across the only access to the inner courtyard of Castle Shimura, blowing up the advancing Shimura forces and damaging the bridge. The volunteers from Yarikawa had taken the worst of it. That had been the most upsetting of all to Jin. That the people who’d suffered the most had been people who’d also suffered the longest. Even before the Mongols had come to their shores. 

“I think we should take a page from the Mongols and return their tactic a thousandfold. Using Taka’s devices, a small number of us can get into the inner courtyard with a store of black powder bombs. If the Mongols have a store of explosives, we could light it all up.” 

“Blow up the _Castle_?” Jin said, incredulous. “That’s the plan? My uncle would be just as upset.”

“I’m no stranger to his disapproval.” 

“He could have you executed.” 

“Life is a gamble,” Ryuzo said with a light shrug. “I’m shocked we’ve made it so far. We’ll open the gates once we’re finished, and you can lead in the rest of our forces to sweep things up.” 

“You’re not going in there without me.” 

“I am. Even if I have to knock you out and hide you in a barrel,” Ryuzo said, folding his arms. 

“If you do this without me, I’ll tell my uncle it was my idea,” Jin shot back. “You won’t be able to save me from the consequences. He already thinks I’m going to try something.” 

“You—!” 

“Boys, boys,” Yuna said to a side. Jin flinched. He hadn’t heard her approach. 

Ryuzo scowled at her. “What?”

“I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on this new way that you’re trying to get yourselves killed,” Yuna said with a sharp smile, “and I’d like to offer some suggestions. That is, if you’ve both done arguing.” 

“What suggestions?” Jin asked, smacking Ryuzo on the arm when Ryuzo started to bite out a likely rude retort. 

“What’s our main problem right now?” Yuna asked.

“Jin’s uncle,” Ryuzo said, even as Jin said, “The Mongols occupying the fortified inner castle with a damaged bridge access.” They glared at each other as Yuna chuckled. 

“I’m more inclined to side with Ryuzo, but Jin outlined the problem. One bridge. Large door. Inner courtyard likely full of traps.” 

“Excellent analysis,” Ryuzo said sourly. Jin smacked him again. 

“The fact that the Mongols are just watching us repair that bridge without shooting at us isn’t a good sign,” Yuna said, “so I went over for a look.”

“What?” Jin said, shocked. “How? When?”

“Call it a trade secret,” Yuna said with a look of faux innocence. She hunkered down over the dirt, drawing her dagger and tracing out a quick map. “Surprisingly enough, the trap isn’t that sophisticated. They have a large number of explosives, mostly in the inner courtyard and the way up to the keep. The forces remaining are drinking. Thanks to their new trick with the armour, I couldn’t tell who’s in charge, but the Khan is not there.” 

“They’ve left a contingent here whose purpose is to die,” Jin concluded as he and Ryuzo knelt to inspect the map, “but damage us as much as they can first.” 

“That’s what I think. Here’s my first suggestion. We blow up the bridge. Let them starve. The food supplies are on our side of the bridge, anyway. Unless they have a hidden store, they will last maybe two weeks, if they don’t eat each other. Even if they don’t, it will run out sooner or later. And they have a limited water supply.” 

“Kojiro said the same thing,” Ryuzo said. 

Jin grimaced. “No. My uncle would never allow it.” 

“Surely it isn’t dishonourable to let someone make their bed and lie in it,” Yuna said, frowning. “It’s the logical approach to a siege, isn’t it? When you have people in one place who don’t want to leave. Hasn’t it been done before?” 

“Lord Shimura doesn’t wish to draw out this campaign,” Jin said slowly, “and if it’s true that the Khan isn’t here, doing so would give him time to develop his position in the north.” 

“So leave a contingent here to watch them die and move north,” Yuna said. 

“I’ve already suggested that. It’s complicated,” Jin said, frowning at the hand-drawn map. “Politically speaking, Komoda Beach and his subsequent capture have been disastrous for my uncle’s standing in the shōgunate court. Lord Oda isn’t only here to assist us. He’s here to assess us. Should the rest of the war go badly, the shōgun may remove my uncle from the position of Jitō.” 

“Throwing more people to die over the bridge surely isn’t going to make things better,” Ryuzo said. “Yuna’s scouting made this easier. All we need to do is get across to here.” He pointed at a corner of the map. “Which we can by crossing under the bridge and climbing from here. A few well-placed arrows and we can take out all the explosives in the courtyard.” 

“Or you could take out the sentries here and here,” Yuna said, drawing two crosses along the wall, “and open the gate. They won’t be expecting us to attack again so soon. That way, we’ll have access to their powder stores. And we won’t need to waste time putting out fires.” 

“The bridge is damaged,” Jin said. 

Yuna grinned. “My brother has a solution for that. He’s made a temporary bridge. Doesn’t work as well for people in full armour, but I’m sure some sacrifices can be made, hm?” 

“I’ll talk to my uncle again,” Jin said, getting to his feet. 

Ryuzo and Yuna exchanged a glance. “That’d work so well,” Yuna said. 

“He has to know,” Jin said. “Besides, he’d insist on being the first across this bridge. Armour or not.” 

Ryuzo sniffed. “Politics.” 

“No. Because he leads from the front. As we all should.” Jin pulled Ryuzo to his feet. “Yuna, I’d like to have a look at this bridge. Ryuzo…”

“I’ll talk to Kojiro.” Ryuzo clapped Jin on the back and wandered off. 

Alone with Yuna, Jin said, “Thank you.” 

“I’ll remember that when I make a full accounting of my efforts,” Yuna said, mimicking rubbing coins together. 

“I’m glad you didn’t decide to leave.”

“That wasn’t me. That was Taka. He did have a point. The sea is full of Mongol ships right now. Even smugglers run a risk trying to get to the mainland. So we thought we’d stay and see to it that you don’t make things worse, Lord Sakai.” Yuna grinned mischievously.

“Please, not you too.”

#

The Mongols hadn’t disturbed as much of the keep as Jin thought they would, given what they’d done to the rest of Castle Shimura. Jin’s room was still mostly intact, even though it looked like someone had been using it to sleep, given the furs spread over the futon. The scrolls had been left where they were, and the only things missing were the hunting dagger that Ryuzo had once given him as a present and a chest of clothes.

“Not as bad as I thought it’d be,” Ryuzo said, inspecting the room beside him. “Strange.”

“Maybe they preferred their tents.” Jin had been trying to make sense of the few records and artefacts he’d gotten his hands on, but he hadn’t been able to decipher the language. 

“They’re a horse people, aren’t they?” Ryuzo glanced out of the window. “I wonder why they even bothered to do this.” 

“Didn’t Lord Watanabe ever mention it? The Kingdom of Goryeo became a vassal state of the Mongol Empire after a series of invasions. Japan has been allied with Goryeo since the beginning, but never dispatched ambassadors to the Empire. Kublai sent emissaries demanding tribute, and the Imperial court suggested a compromise, but Shikken Tokimune of the Hōjō clan is powerful enough not to have to heed either his council or the Imperial Court. As such—”

“Enough, enough,” Ryuzo said, making a show of rubbing his temple. “I hate politics.” 

“So did Hajime. Yet politics is a necessary part of our lives,” said Lord Shimura. He looked between them as Ryuzo jerked away from the window and Jin whirled. “Jin. Ryuzo. I’ve received reports that the Khan has his sights set on Port Izumi. His remaining ships are beginning to converge toward it. Tomorrow, take a contingent north to fortify Jigoku Temple and survey the situation.”

“What about you?” Jin asked. 

“Lord Oda and I need to retake Fort Koyasan,” Lord Shimura said. He held up a palm as Jin started to speak. “Which should be a straightforward affair. We’ve learned from your example, and will scout the fort before committing to an attack.” 

“That’s surprising,” Ryuzo said. He ignored Jin’s quelling glare. 

“You’re right that this is war like we’ve never seen before,” Lord Shimura said, ignoring Ryuzo. “At the same time, we should not have to stoop to their level. I trust your campaign in the north will remain innovative where necessary, but also honourable.”

“Of course, uncle,” Jin said, hoping Ryuzo would keep his mouth shut. 

“To treat others with honour is to treat them with respect. Even an enemy. War is an aberration, as is unnecessary bloodshed. Only with an honourable approach will it stay an aberration. Only when we honour our opponents can we be sure that we fight for the right reasons: to protect our people. Samurai do not draw their blades out of vengeance,” Lord Shimura said. 

“Tell that to Lady Masako,” Ryuzo said, having never had much patience for lectures. 

“What happened to her is a tragedy beyond tragedy,” Lord Shimura retorted, “but I don’t doubt that she will regain her equilibrium in time.” 

“About Fort Koyasan,” Jin began, hoping to head off an argument. 

Lord Shimura gave him a pointed look. “I said to leave that to me. Ryuzo, time has not made me inclined to change my opinion of your character.” 

“I know,” Ryuzo said, folding his arms over his chest. 

“However,” Lord Shimura said before Jin could object, “neither will I allow my personal objections to colour your obvious achievements. You saved Jin from Komoda Beach and held Azamo Bay against an army for weeks with only injured ronin and peasants. You and Jin retook Izuhara with little more than that.” 

“Don’t forget Toyotama,” Ryuzo said, though his combative tone eased. 

“I haven’t. When I wrote to the shōgun, I didn’t only ask for aid and for approval to adopt Jin. I also sent him Lord Watanabe’s old letter. His request to adopt you has been approved, posthumously. Should the rest of the campaign go well, you’ll be put in charge of Azamo until a samurai clan from the mainland arrives to occupy the Salt Winds estate, after which you will oversee the traditional Watanabe holdings,” Lord Shimura said. 

“…Thank you,” Ryuzo said, the first to recover from his shock. 

“I didn’t realise you did that,” Jin said with a blink. 

“Lord Watanabe was a close friend, and the work he did was a key factor in the stability of the island. May that continue when Jin someday takes my place,” Lord Shimura said, looking Ryuzo evenly in the eyes. 

“He did say that he hoped the future Jitō would be more responsive to his concerns,” Ryuzo noted with a smirk. 

“The future Jitō may soon realise how annoying it is to be pestered with missives day and night over issues that are none of his concern,” Lord Shimura retorted. “Jin, a word.” 

“I’ll… go talk to Kojiro and the others,” Ryuzo said, excusing himself with a bow. 

“I hope that isn’t a mistake,” Lord Shimura said once Ryuzo was gone. 

“It won’t be,” Jin promised, unable to keep himself from grinning. “Uncle—thank you.” 

Lord Shimura studied Jin soberly. “Jin. We have not always agreed, but I’m glad that we came this far. About that night…” He trailed off uncomfortably. 

“I said things in anger that I now regret,” Jin said, having thought this over all day. “I’m sorry.” 

Lord Shimura walked over to the window, folding his arms behind his back. “If Nahoko had seen me strike her son, she’d have blackened my eye,” he said, almost to himself. 

“Surely not.” 

“Your father, on the other hand, would’ve agreed with my assessment at the time.” Lord Shimura glanced at Jin. “Yet I believe that they would be proud of the man you have become. As am I.”

#

“Is it now Lord Shimura or Lord Sakai or Lord Sakai-Shimura?” Ryuzo asked as they rode into Omi village. With the Khan dead and his army scattered, the sentry shift on the new watchtower had grown lax. Jin made a mental note of it as they rode past.

“Yuna already made that joke,” Jin said, nodding at people who stood by and bowed as they passed. 

“Is she still going to sail off to the mainland?” 

“Wouldn’t you know that better than I do? I thought you were going to employ her.” 

“Employ one of the most talented blacksmiths I’ve ever met? Sure. His irritating, light-fingered sister? Maybe,” Ryuzo said, though he smirked. 

“She’d make a good Kosei,” Jin pointed out. Yuna was a fair hand at scouting, and she had good instincts. 

“Why, are you suggesting that I marry her? I’m shocked.” Ryuzo laughed as Jin reddened and sputtered. “Only joking.”

“That’s never going to be funny.” 

“Give it a year, and your uncle’s going to be making noises about wanting grandchildren. It’s what parents do, I hear. You can fend off an invasion from an Empire, rescue your people from slavery, and kill the Khan in single combat, but it won’t be enough.” 

“He already has. I told him that at worst, I’ll follow his example and adopt when the time comes,” Jin said. 

“That must have gone down well.” 

“He said you were a bad influence.”

“Me? That was all you.” Ryuzo said with a sniff. They rode through the well-swept graveyard and dismounted by the stairs to the large graves. As they faced Kazumasa’s tomb, Ryuzo said, “What would your father think about you throwing his surname away?” 

“He isn’t here.” Jin caught Ryuzo’s hand, holding it tight. “The last time we were here together, we were so young.” 

“You told me to kneel before his grave and apologise. I remember that,” Ryuzo said with a sharp smile. “I think you’re the one who should be doing that now. Lord Shimura.” 

“Taking on a new name doesn’t make me any less his son. Or my mother’s.” Jin stared pensively at the grave. “I still wish I could have done something that day.” 

“ _Jin_.”

“Yet there’s no point in regretting the past,” Jin said as the wind kicked up a slow circlet of reddened leaves around them both, curling the crimson shards across old and new stone. “We are who we are because of family, but also despite our family. Sometimes it feels like it’s everything, even though it isn’t.”

“An endless string of impossible expectations through the ages,” Ryuzo said, with a nod at the older stones. 

“It’s the only way we’ve been taught to love. Stifling as it has been at times, however, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” 

“You, maybe,” Ryuzo said, though he leaned over to kiss Jin on the temple. “If your family had their way, we wouldn’t both be standing here like this.” 

Jin raised their linked hands, brushing a kiss over the threads. “Even as I honour their memory, I wouldn’t let memories decide how I choose to live. With honour, but on my terms.”

“With honour, but on our terms,” Ryuzo corrected as he kissed their linked hands in turn, and smiled as Jin pulled him over for more.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @manic_intent  
> my writing, prompt policy, original stuff: manicintent.carrd.co


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